Darkness
by Ryla Dante
Summary: During a routine job, Dean is struck blind. Shortly after, mysterious things begin to happen. He starts to see things, even though he couldn't possibly be able to. What's happening to him, and can he stop whatever it is that's causing this? Complete...
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Okay, I had this idea for a very long time, but never knew how to execute it. After watching 'The Eye' starring Jessica Alba I was able to put it all together. Here is the first chapter. Enjoy and please be gentle, I bruise easy, hehe.

Disclaimer: Same old, same old. We get it. But Kripke does get props for owning such a kick ass show. Rock on dude!

* * *

Dean lifted the gun, the spirit in his sights. His hands were steady as a rock, knowing that from years of experience he could take the thing down.

"Make my day you son of a bitch."

Dean cocked the gun and then let off a shot. The spirit let off a loud scream just as he did so, causing Dean to drop his guard. The bullet ricocheted off a pipe sending a blast of intensely hot steam into Dean's face.

Dean crashed to the floor, the spirit escaping in a puff of smoke. Dean grabbed at his face. Sam slipped around the corner to find his brother yelling in pain on the floor.

He rushed to Dean's side grabbing him. Dean jumped.

"Dean, what happened?"

Dean mumbled incoherently, but Sam was able to hear two words through the rambling: 'My eyes."

Sam grabbed at Dean's hands, trying to pry them off his face. He wouldn't let him.

"Dean, please. Let me see."

Dean was still crying in pain, but he allowed Sam to pull his hands away. Sam pulled back as he saw how damaged his brother's eyes were. The whites of his eyes were a yellowish color with deep crimson lines streaking from the outer edges to the pupils. The skin around his eyes was a crisp red. Some of the flesh was peeling. Many of his eyelashes were stiff and darkened and some were missing. Dean was trying to see, but squinted from the obvious pain.

Sam waved a hand in front of his brother's face. When Dean did not respond, Sam swallowed hard.

"Dean we have to get you…Dean, **_Dean_**?!"

Sam's words were cut off as his brother slowly began to slip into unconsciousness.

XXXX

The doctor waved a penlight in Dean's eyes, which resulted in little to no reaction of his pupils.

"Okay, seems to me that you've got some corneal damage Mr. Richards."

He wrote something down on a small tablet, nodding to himself and then slipped it back in his breast pocket.

"So Doctor Steele, when can we expect my brother to see again?"

Dr. Steele turned to Sam, who was sitting on the edge of Dean's bed staring hard at him, as if he could will him to see. If Dean could see how his brother was looking at him, he would have decked him.

"Well your condition, which I won't downplay, is bad. Although I do believe Dean could see at the very least shadows and some shapes in the next few days. A direct hit like that to the eye can put you out of commission for some time. I say that your brother should have a full recovery within a week, with the proper treatment."

Sam smiled slowly and gripped Dean's hand.

"Dean, did you hear that? You might be able to see within a week."

Dean shook his head.

"Dude, I'm blind, not deaf. I heard the man."

Dean sat up, unable to distinguish anyone or anything at present. Everything was black. Never in his life would Dean have thought he would know what it was like to be blind. It was an altogether new feeling for him.

"Um, Doc. When do you think I can leave? This whole not being able to see and being stuck in a hospital room thing kind of weirds me out."

Dr. Steele chuckled.

"I understand. It can get a bit confined in here under the best of circumstances. I think tomorrow would be a good guess. We need to monitor you, just to make sure that your eyes don't get infected, and then we will see if you can go home. Deal?"

Dean nodded. Anything to get out of the hospital. He had too many bad memories of these places, and it would be a comfort to get back to the motel and sleep in his own bed. He heard Sam whisper to the doctor, followed by footfalls exiting the room. _Oh yeah, that's fine. Take advantage of the cripple, he won't mind._

Dean leaned back against the bed, closing his eyes. Not that it mattered really, things looked the same opened or closed. He could have left them opened and went to sleep just as easily. But it was the principal of the thing, so he closed them anyway.

As he drifted off to sleep, a strange feeling washed over him. He felt like he was drowning. Water was all around him, in his lungs, his mouth and even in his nose. It surrounded him and made it hard to breathe. Dean fought against it, struggling to pull his head to the surface.

Suddenly, something grabbed at his throat, gripping tightly. Not only was he fighting against the weight that was pressing against every part of his body, now he had an invisible hold clenching his throat with such a force, it was threatening to snap his neck.

Without warning, everything ceased. Dean could breathe and the wall of water around him fell away. He shot up in the bed, his heart pounding. Next to him the EKG machine was beeping erratically.

The doctor rushed in, Sam right behind him. As the doctor dealt with the monitor, Sam sat beside his brother.

"What happened?"

Dean's face was pale. He tried to look at his brother, but he only succeeded in looking toward the hospital room door.

"I don't have any clue Sam. All I know is I want the hell out of here."

XXXX

The drive back to the motel was a quiet one. Dean sat stoic in the passenger seat, his arms crossed. Sam merely stared out the front window watching cars pass them by. He had no choice but to drive, even though Dean had been adamant about it. He did not like the fact that Sam was driving his car and he was incapable of seeing what his brother was doing with her.

"Doctor Steele told me that despite what happened yesterday, everything was progressing normally."

Sam turned slowly to look at Dean, who only shrugged.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened, or do I have to assume you'd rather keep it to yourself?"

Dean sighed.

"Sam, listen. What happened was just a symptom of my condition, nothing more, nothing less. Can we just get back to the motel?"

Sam opened his mouth, but decided that right now Dean just wanted to recover and didn't need his baby brother bothering him with annoying questions.

"By the way, could you please turn that whiny ass music off? I know you like that Emo crap, but please for the love of God, just because I can't see doesn't mean you have full reign over my stereo."

Dean felt for the knob on the radio, and after hitting the dashboard finally connected with the radio. He snapped off John Mayer's incessant droning about some girl's body being a wonderland. If he had been able to roll his eyes without wincing, he would have.

"Sorry. I just thought I would play something slow, not something that might be too heavy. Just thinking of you is all."

Dean sighed again.

"Sam, don't. I may be blind, but I can take care of myself. I don't need you to think for me."

Sam grit his teeth. He understood what his brother was saying, understood that he didn't want to be treated like a child right now, but he didn't have to be such a hardass about it.

XXXX

Back at the motel, Dean struggled to get to his bed. He banged his shin on a small side table which caused him to curse aloud. Sam tried to steer him in the right direction, but he shoved him away.

"What did I tell you? I can do this myself. I don't need your help."

Sam mumbled something to himself.

"You know what Sam; I'd appreciate it if you'd just leave me alone okay."

Sam bit his bottom lip as Dean found his bed and flopped down on it. He watched his brother roll to his left and within moments fell asleep. Sam sat on his own bed and despite what Dean had said to him, he would keep an eye on him.

XXXX

Dean woke up later that evening, and instinctively began to wipe at his eyes. All Dean was able to touch was the cotton and hard plastic Dr. Steele had made sure to cover them with. The hard covering pushed into his eyes, making him grunt.

Dean had no clue what time it was, but he figured it was late. He needed a bath; he had only light sponge baths at the hospital which did not cut it. The doctor had advised him against showers since water in the face was a no-no.

Edging his way from the bed, he could hear that Sam was asleep. He was breathing slowly and deeply. Dean lowered his head. He had been a jerk to the kid. Sam had only been trying to help and Dean had bit his head off. It was just that Dean was never one for wanting help. He always wanted to do things on his own, especially now. He felt people treated him like an invalid in this condition. That was never a great position to be in. He made a mental note to apologize to Sam in the morning, it was only right.

Once in the tub, Dean felt relaxed. He had been right, he needed this. Dean leaned back and soaked until he was sure he became a prune. Cleaning himself up as best he could, he unplugged the tub.

Carefully stepping out, he worked his way to the sink. Now was the challenge. He had to brush his teeth, but couldn't see them.

"Okay, let's see how I work this."

Dean groped for the mirror and opened it. He touched a tube, which he hoped was toothpaste, and pulled it out. Opening the cap, he sniffed it. It was.

"Okay, score one for Longstreet."

After a few attempts he got a bit of tooth paste on his brush. Turning the water on in the sink, he started to brush his teeth. As he leaned over to spit, his heart almost stopped.

The sink was there all right, but he could see it. He could see the water flowing from the faucet in a steady stream. Dean dropped the brush onto the floor. His hands went to his face. The gauze and plastic were still in place, so there was no way he would be able to see anything so clearly.

As he stared in shock at what had manifested in front of him, the water started to gurgle. It backed up, spat, and then suddenly rushed out a dark earthy brown. It filled the entire basin, flowed over the sides and splattered onto the tile floor. Dean stepped back, slipping on the floor. Behind him he heard more gurgling. Dean shot around to see the tub begin to fill up the same way. Filthy brown water crept to the edges of the tub and then worked its way over. Dean stood frozen to the spot. Normally something like this would be common place and not cause him to falter, but this was not under normal circumstances. How could he be seeing this when he couldn't see? It wasn't possible.

The water finally stopped flowing. The water was calm, but still murky. Dean swallowed hard not sure what he should do. He guessed the only thing to do was to check it out. So he stepped forward.

Dean knelt in front of the tub, pulling back slightly as the smell of something rotten invaded his nostrils. He fought off nausea and leaned in not sure of what to expect. He stared into the water, his pulse pounding. Nothing happened. The water remained calm and it seemed as if all there was was the smell which in and of itself was bad enough.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief, even though it was odd that he could see all this, and then leaned against the tub. He rubbed his forehead, still wondering what was going on. He sighed again, when a hand reached out of the tub, grabbing him around the neck, dragging him under.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Chapter two as requested. This chapter is not as good as the last (IMO) but I hope you all like it. Yet another cliffie to hold you over until I get the third chapter written down. I had an idea of where this story was going, but as I wrote the end of this chapter, that all changed. Now I am going down a different road. I just hope it works out in the end.

Disclaimer: Sam and Dean belong to the amazing Kripke. All other characters are products of my twisted mine. By the way I forgot to thank historylover for giving me the title to this little gem. It would have taken me forever to come up with one without the 'title guru', hehe. Also she had me edit a bit of the first chapter, which was much needed. So again, thank to her.

* * *

Sam had awoken the next morning to find his brother lying half naked on the floor, water pooled around him. Dean now sat on his bed shaking his head, unable to comprehend what had taken place the night before.

"I just don't get it Sam. I mean, I was trying to brush my teeth and the next thing I know I was able to see things that just couldn't be there."

Sam bit at his nails. Dean had told him everything shortly after he found him, and it was bizarre to say the least. In their line of work they could usually figure this out, but when it happened to one of their own, it was never that simple.

"Do you know what it was that did this to you? Or who?"

Dean shook his head.

"No. The only thing I know is that whatever it was was damned strong to yank my ass into that tub. Like I told you, I smelled something rotten, like something had died. Then within a matter of 30 seconds tops, I was under water."

Sam took a deep breath. Something weird was going on here. At least now he knew what had happened at the hospital. Sam stood and began to pace, his mind racing. How could they fight something that only his brother could see, and what did it want? Sam continued to pace when Dean grabbed his arm.

"Sam stop that before you wear out what's left of the carpet."

He did as he was told, but suddenly realized what Dean had just said. He waved a hand in front of Dean's face. Dean pulled back, smacking at his hand.

"You can see?"

Dean shook his head.

"I can't see everything, just blobs. Dude, you should see how _you_ look. You know, sort of like one of those funhouse mirrors, all distorted and everything."

Sam raised an eyebrow, but ignored the comment.

"How long have you been able to see like this?"

Dean thought about it for a moment.

"I guess since you found me. It was slight at first and all I saw were dark blurs. I couldn't discern much of anything."

Sam moved to his bedside table and grabbed his cell. Dean could not quite see what Sam was doing, but he could hear that Sam was calling someone. He stumbled over to his brother.

"Who are you calling?"

Sam looked up at him. He put up what Dean assumed was a finger.

"Yes, I'd like to make an appointment with Dr. Steele. Yes, for Dean Richards please. Whenever would be the soonest. Apparently my brother's sight is returning sooner than Dr. Steele had thought it would, and I think he should have a look at him if that'd be possible. Tomorrow morning at ten? That'd be great. Thank you."

Sam hung up the phone. Even though Dean could not see Sam all that well, he was clearly glaring at him.

"Why the hell did you do that? I am not about to go back to that hospital. Not until I absolutely have to."

Sam closed his eyes. His brother was being as stubborn as usual. Although after what happened he had every right to be.

"Dean, listen. Your sight is starting to come back. Can we at least get you checked out, just in case?"

Dean shrugged.

"Okay, whatever. But if we go I get to drive, or no deal."

Sam's brow creased.

"Um, no dice Dean. I value the body that God gave me. So let's not and say we did, shall we?"

The look on Dean's face reminded Sam of an angry two year old. He tried not to smile at the thought of Dean throwing a temper tantrum.

"You really are a downer aren't you?"

Sam chuckled.

"I guess, and you're still not driving the car."

Dean flopped down on his bed a smile on his own face.

"Bitch."

Sam could not control his laughter anymore.

"Jerk."

XXXX

Sam and Dean sat in the small examination room, waiting for Dr. Steele to see them. It was almost 11:30 and Dean's legs were beginning to go numb from hanging off the exam table. Everything around him looked spooky and ghostlike. The scale in the back corner looked as if it were melting into a pool of liquid metal. Either that or Dean had seen T2 one too many times.

To his right the blood pressure gauge looked like a snake ready to strike. Dean took a deep breath and hoped he was just seeing things again. Sam noticed how anxious he looked and touched his arm, causing him to jump.

"You okay Dean? I mean you don't look too good. You didn't see anything did you?"

Dean shook his head, nodded it and then shook it again.

"I don't know. My perception is altered to such a degree that I don't have a clue what's real and what isn't."

Sam frowned. He was about to say something when Dr. Steele walked in.

"So, I hear that your sight has improved. Let's test that shall we."

Dr. Steele removed the coverings on Dean's eyes, which made his vision improve slightly.

"Okay, I am going to hold up a few fingers, you tell me if you can see how many."

Dr. Steele held up three fingers. Dean squinted hard. He could see something, though he wasn't sure if he could call them fingers. But as he continued to squint he was able to make out three of them.

"Three?"

Dr. Steele nodded.

"Okay, let's try another. How about this?"

Dean squinted again and this time he was able to see them a bit easier.

"Two."

Dr. Steele nodded again.

"Very good. One more and then I'll do a check of your eyes, see how we got here."

This time Dr. Steele did a thumbs up, just to see if he could throw Dean off. Dean squinted once and then made a face.

"Okay, if you're gonna cheat I suggest you do better than giving me a thumbs up Doc."

Sam snorted.

"I guess it's easy enough to assume you can see."

Dr. Steele slipped his penlight out of his jacket pocket.

"Now I want you to follow the light with your eyes but don't move your head."

As he shined it in Dean's eyes, a sharp pain shot through his head causing his eyes to shut tight.

"Are you okay Mr. Richards?"

Dean gripped his forehead as the pain subsided. He shook it off and then looked back up at the doctor.

"Yeah, I'm fine now. It just felt like something misfired in my head."

Doctor Steele looked into Dean's eyes. They were still red and irritated, but from this view he couldn't see anything that would give warrant to what had just happened. He took another shot at the penlight.

As Dean followed the light, he saw a jagged shadow filter in and out of the room. It then disappeared around the exam room door. A second later Dean heard a very low moan which quickly turned into an ear splitting scream. Dean blinked hard.

"Looks like your corneas are healing rapidly. I knew you would be able to see some form of shapes or shadows, but even this is more than I could have imagined. How would you explain this?"

Dean looked at his brother, who merely shrugged.

"I just heal fast I guess. It must run in the family or something."

Dr. Steele caught the look exchanged between the brothers, but nodded just the same.

"Well, I will need to run a few more tests. You will most likely have to keep wearing the eye patches for a few more days just to be on the safe side. There are a few tests I can run today, but some of them I need you to come back tomorrow for. Do you think you can swing that?"

Dean nodded.

"Yeah, I mean I am not the biggest fan of hospitals by any stretch of the imagination, but if I want my sight back, I have no choice. Right Doc?"

Dr. Steele returned the nod.

XXXX

Dean had been given the usual tests: Distance, peripheral and the like. He was only able to discern decent details up to 6 inches away, but Dr. Steele was impressed none the less. His peripheral was just as good, if not better. He was able to catch shadows and shapes that even Sam and the doctor couldn't. Dr. Steele joked that Dean's vision was going to be better than his at this rate.

He was now sitting on his bed, flipping through channels on the TV. He was squinting which only helped in giving him a headache.

"Why torture yourself Dean? Wait until your vision is back, and then watch TV."

Dean waved him off.

"Hey, what better way to watch American Psycho? You think that film screws with your mind when you can actually see it, imagine what it looks like through my eyes Sam."

Sam rolled his eyes and grabbed the remote. He turned the TV off just as Christian Bale began to dance around his apartment in a raincoat wielding an ax. Dean protested.

"Dude that was the best part, I think. Turn it back on."

Sam sat down next to Dean.

"Enough about the TV Dean. We need to talk about what happened at the hospital today."

Dean grabbed for the remote, but Sam wouldn't let him have it.

"Damn it Sam, you're beginning to sound like a parrot. 'What happened, what happened?' Get off it. I told you what happened before in the bathroom. Don't I get to have any secrets? You do."

Sam tossed the remote onto his bed. He breathed out through his nose.

"Okay, that was uncalled for. And no, you don't, not now. What's happening to you upsets me, and I need to know everything that's going on. Is that too much to ask?"

Dean lowered his head. He never did apologize to Sam for their original fight, and now here he was rehashing it for no good reason. He was just upset over the fact that he couldn't do a damn thing to stop whatever it was from happening again. Now he knew what Sam felt like whenever he had visions.

"Look, I'm sorry. You do have a right to be upset. Here I am treating you like the bad guy, and what for? Cause I'm upset about something else entirely? That's not a very good reason. You should know what's going on."

Dean stood, rubbing his temples. The 'vision' he had in the exam room was so fast. He wouldn't have been sure he witnessed anything at all if he hadn't of heard that scream.

"While Dr. Steele was waving that light in my eyes, I saw something, or thought I did it was so fast. There was a shadow that seemed to drift in and out of the room like something out of the Grudge or whatever. After it vanished I heard this intense scream and then nothing."

Sam began to worry. No strike that, he was well past worrying. He had stumbled into total anxiety territory. He had suddenly slipped into the big brother role, and it felt awkward to say the least. Dean meant the world to him, and to see him in this position scared the shit out of him. Sam wanted to help, but was incapable of doing so. He only hoped that all of this would end soon, and that things would go back to normal, or at least their version of normal.

XXXX

"Dude, what did I tell you about that whiny Emo crap? Turn it off."

Dean had another appointment with Dr. Steele in an hour, and even though his sight was getting better, Sam still insisted on driving. Yellow Card drifted through the stereo, making Dean almost nauseas. Sam ignored his brother and let the music play. Dean grunted and reached for the knob. Sam wacked at his hand.

"Leave it will ya? A little Alternative music is not going to kill you."

Dean glared at Sam.

"Oh no, but it just might kill you."

He swatted back at Sam, and grabbed for the dial again. Sam rolled his eyes, knocking Dean's hand away again. They fought for a minute when something else caught Dean's eye.

A figure stood in the middle of the road, unmoving. Dean forgot about the radio and yanked the steering wheel to the left. Sam yelped and slammed down hard on the brakes.

"What the hell's wrong with you?"

Dean stared at the figure that was now looking back at him. It was a young girl who looked to be no older than sixteen. Long brown tendrils flowed down to her lower back. She was wearing blue jean shorts and a red tank top. Her entire body was soaking wet and droplets of water dripped onto the pavement. Her face was emotionless. Her skin was pale and waxen, and seemed to be stretched against nothing but bone. At first glance her eyes looked to be a pale blue, but in reality they were a milky white. She was blind.

"Jesus Christ, I don't…"

Dean just continued to watch this poor troubled spirit stand in the middle of the road. She never came any closer, never said a word. It was as if she did not even register his presence.

"What is it Dean?"

Sam scanned the street, not seeing what his brother clearly saw. It troubled him to no end.

"That poor girl needs my help and I don't, I don't know how."

As if she heard his words, she lifted an arm and beckoned him to her. Dean did not even hesitate. He left the car and walked toward her. Yes she had pulled him into the tub, but some sprits tend to have a different perspective after they die. All they see is the dark side of things. That might have been her case.

"Tell me what you want me to do."

She touched his face gently and his body instantly went cold. Suddenly her hair began to fall off, slow at first, then in clumps. Dean gagged as the top of her head split open and the skin slowly dropped off the bones. Her clothes turned into nothing but torn rags and floated off in the breeze. The rest of her skin peeled away showing even more bone. The only skin left was that of her arm.

Her blind eyes still looked into his, and with a mouth devoid of teeth, she whispered in his ear making him shiver uncontrollably.

"Make him pay!"


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: In the last two chapters we delved into the fact that Dean was having odd visions...in this chapter we get into more of who the spirit is. This story is about to get _really _dark, as if it isn't already :)

I hope you are liking where I am going with this. I hope to have at the very least 5 chapters. Anything more than that would be great. As I said on the last Author's Note I changed up my whole storyline after writing that last chapter. In the end, I am glad that I did.

Enjoy, and keep reviewing!

* * *

"What do you think she meant by that?"

Sam stared at the picture that he had drawn from Dean's description. He shuddered as her vacant eyes looked up at him from the paper. He was never a good artist, but this was a little too real for his liking.

"You're asking me? I was _there_ and I haven't got a clue. I just know that whoever she has a grudge against has really put a crimp in her personality."

Sam chuckled.

"So she's the female you?"

Dean made a face.

"Cockiness is _so_ not you."

Sam merely smiled. Looking at the sketch again, he couldn't help but be unnerved by her dead looking eyes. It was as if the picture was coming to life with every glance. Sam jumped in his seat as Dr. Steele walked into the room. He hurriedly placed the picture under him.

"Oh, so sorry for scaring you. But I'm ready to take Dean for the rest of his tests. If you want to come along that would be fine."

Sam nodded. Dean stood, teetering only slightly. Sam grabbed his arm, steadying him. They headed down the hall to the eye exam room. Dr. Steele told Dean to have a seat in front of the phoropter. Sam helped him do so, and had a seat by the door. As Dean was being examined, Sam scanned the room.

There were numerous diplomas and plaques on the wall. It seemed that he had attended Harvard Medical School and was a member of the American Board of Ophthalmology and the American Board of Eye Surgeons. The man wasn't lacking in intelligence, at least on paper.

On the wall by his desk, Sam saw a large collage of photos. Some were very recent, while some looked to go back as far as fifteen years. As he glanced over the photos, not really paying them all that much attention, he stopped on one that almost made him fall out of his chair. It was the girl Dean had seen. Her pale eyes looked at the camera, a smile on her face. Her curls were pulled up into a tight ponytail with two strands falling gently into her face. She looked so much younger than Dean described her, so innocent.

"Well Dean. Your vision has improved surprisingly well. The earlier diagnosis was a week, but it looks like you might be able to see most if not all within the next couple days. Something very odd is going on here. I have never seen anything like this before."

He shook his head in disbelief. Moving to his chart to write this all down, Sam stepped up to him.

"Dr. Steele. I have a question. This might sound a bit odd, but who is that girl there?"

He looked at the photo that Sam was pointing at and shrugged.

"Oh, she's an old patient of mine. In fact they all are. Some of them had keratitis just like your brother. Although theirs were much more severe to the point of needing a transplant. Including that girl right there. Unfortunately hers did not take like so many others did. Sad though, such a beautiful young girl, it would have been a wonderful gift to her."

Sam could only nod. He could tell that there was something odd about the way that Dr. Steele spoke of the girl, but he couldn't figure out what it was just yet. He looked at the photo wall again as Dr. Steele turned to his brother.

"Well Dean, you're free to go. If your vision changes in any way, I'm always available, night and day so don't hesitate to give my office a call."

Dean thanked Dr. Steele for his time as he led the boys out of the room. Coming back in, he scooped up Dean's chart when something caught his eye. A picture was missing from the wall, the very one that Sam had been commenting on.

XXXX

"You know Sammy, you're stealth skills are beginning to worry me."

The local library was full. They were lucky to even go down to see the microfilm machine with all the college students knocking into them. Turns out it was finals week and everyone was cramming at the same time. It was insane.

"Hey, I had to. You were busy. What was I supposed to do? Just sit there with my thumb up my ass? I mean the way he talked about that girl was a bit odd to say the least."

Dean had heard what Dr. Steele had said and it wasn't necessarily his words that were odd, but his tone. He seemed to know this girl a little too well. He spoke about her in a way no doctor should about a patient. It was creepy.

"Hopefully we can find something here. I mean all we have is a picture, this could take us forever. Like a damned needle in a haystack."

Sam ran through the machine, starting back only a few days ago, and just kept up that pace. Dean sat as close to the screen as he could without having to squint. Hours went by as they looked through newspaper upon newspaper. The screen just started going by in a blur after a while. Suddenly Dean slammed a hand onto the monitor.

"That's her. That's the girl I saw."

He yanked the picture out of Sam's bag and compared it to the one on the screen. It was a perfect match. The caption read that the skeletal remains of a young woman had washed ashore of Atwater Lake. DNA had been nearly impossible to collect since the body had been in the water for so long. After much painstaking work, the body had been found to be of a young woman who had been missing for almost two years. Her name was Victoria Logan, aged 16.

"Dean, you don't think that Dr. Steele actually killed this girl?"

Dean began to breathe heavily, his eyes closed. The fact that he was being treated by a sadistic killer made him ill. How could he not have seen it?

"I never saw it. He seemed like a great guy, couldn't harm a fly."

Dean opened his eyes and looked right at Sam.

"Maybe that's what he does. Lulls you into a false sense of security. Makes you think: 'Hey, I'm a nice guy, trust me.' Just as he's about to take you out for believing it."

Sam shook his head.

"We have no proof that he did this, or killed anyone else. We can't go around accusing people without cause Dean. I mean, that has gotten us in trouble before remember?"

Dean rolled his eyes.

"You pick now to sound like a lawyer. Look Sam, this guy could be mentally unstable. There is no way in hell I am going back to see him."

Sam looked at his hands, frowning.

"Um, you sort of have to."

Dean raised his voice a little too high.

"What? Why?"

"See, if you don't Dr. Steele might suspect something. He probably already noticed the fact that I stole his picture. So already he's looking at us. We just have to act normal around him is all I'm saying."

Dean sat back in his seat, his arms crossed in front of him.

"Yeah, but I thought you said we didn't have to worry about him, cause he might not even be a killer. We didn't have any proof, remember?"

Sam shook his head.

"Yes, but we have to work both sides. You never know which one is the right one."

Dean turned the machine off and stood.

"Dude, now you sound like a politician. I'll play this my way, you play it yours. We'll cover more ground that way."

Dean began to walk off, Sam following behind him.

"Whatever. I just don't think that's going to work, we just can't attack someone without a reason."

Dean turned back to his brother.

"You know for a hunter, you really are a pessimist."

XXXX

Once upstairs, the crowd had dissipated a bit to the point that they were able to walk without crashing into anyone. Dean squinted the entire time so he could work his way through the crowd. When Dean stopped to wipe at his eyes, Sam rammed into him, his bag knocking to the floor. The picture fell out of Dean's hand and landed on the floor.

"Fair warning would have been nice Dean."

Dean turned around to say something, when a young girl stepped up to them. She held the picture in her hand. There was a somber look on her face.

"Where did you get this? How do you know about Vikki?"

Sam bit his bottom lip. He was not sure how to approach the situation. If he answered with what he read, and this girl knew nothing about it, it would be a huge mistake. Yet if she knew, she might actually clam up.

"Well you see…"

Dean interrupted. He couldn't see her all that well, but that aside, he was still able to speak to her.

"Miss, do you mind if we sit down? Maybe somewhere with a little less traffic?"

The girl nodded and led them toward a small table in the back of the library. She sat down, the picture clutched in her thin hands. A small tear threatened to fall from her eyes.

"I'm sorry for my outburst. My name's Angela by the way."

Sam and Dean introduced themselves. This was not the time for falsities. At this point, who cared?

"You see, Vikki went missing two years ago and they never found the son of a bitch who did it. People looked everywhere for her, and after a year they just gave up, even her parents. It eventually left the TV, newspapers, and radio. No one wanted to talk about little Vikki Logan anymore. She was my best friend damn it. I cared."

Dean gripped her hand.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that. I know what it's like to lose someone so close to you and not know the truth of what happened. Um, about that picture, we got it from my doctor's office. Apparently she was a patient of his. His name was Dr. Steele."

Angela's eyes widened.

"That bastard was no doctor to her. He didn't care about her or any of his patients. He just pretended he did. There was something altogether wrong about him, and no one wanted to see it. I warned her about him, but she never wanted to hear it. Just because she was literally blind, didn't mean she had to be so figuratively."

Angela sniffed, wiping at her eyes. She leaned closer to Dean to where he could see her perfectly. She had blonde hair which was pulled back in a French braid. Her eyes were a mint green that almost mirrored his own. She was only about 18, but amazingly beautiful.

"You say that Dr. Steele is your doctor now? That man is a manipulative, egomaniacal bastard. I would find a second opinion fast, before you end up like Vikki did."

She pulled her hand back and walked away. Dean looked at Sam, the both of them in shock.

"So, can we do things my way now?"

Sam could only nod.

XXXX

The room was dark and musty. It hadn't been used in a long time. It would have drawn much attention if anyone had been there anyway. A small light danced in the distance, coming closer. He was ready, it had been so long.

He set the flashlight on the old exam table and unraveled a leather pouch. Inside were a set of tools. They gleamed in the torch light. The man smiled broadly as he picked out the scalpel and set it on a clean mat to his right. He was going to start again, to make up for the mistake that happened two years ago. Vikki had told on him, told everyone what he was doing behind these doors, so she had to die. He had grieved then, but now his work must go on.

Now he found a donor that was just delicious. His eyes were an amazing color that he had never seen before, plus the fact that they seemed to heal at a rapid pace. Someone needed what he was going to take, someone whose eyes were their livelihood.

He was steadily going blind, and for a man of only 45 years old, that was not going to happen. He would lose his license and everything he ever had. It was amazing to think that a man who worked on eyes all his life was unable to repair the damage to his own. He couldn't stand around helping others when he couldn't even help himself. This was his only chance.

As he set out all the tools he needed, his smile faltered. Sam would be a problem. That boy was always at Dean's hip. He picked up a retractor, touching the steal with his hands. He chuckled slightly at the thought of what he could do to the boy if he even tried to get in his way.

He set the tool down just as his cell rang.

"Yes, this is Dr. Steele. Ah, of course I can see you Dean. That's not a problem at all. I'm on emergency call right now, but I can see you back at the office, in say, two hours?"

Dr. Steele hung up the phone and headed back to his office.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry I took a little longer on this chapter, but I was stuck on how to work this one out. I had an ending for it, but no middle. In the end everything changed, again. That seems to be the norm around here lately, hehe.

Anyway, this chapter gets dark, especially toward the end. It leads into the last chapter (I think Chapter Five will be the end...) which explains everything, and believe me, what I have in my head right now is pretty messed up. Yet as we know, that can all change.

I am glad you all are enjoying this story as much as I am writing it. Cause you are discovering it along with me. I am writing each chapter one at a time, so I have no clue what is going to happen from one moment to the next, just as you do.

I thank you all for the amazing reviews, that are greatly appreciated! Keep them coming!

* * *

They were once again sitting in Dr. Steele's office. Dean thumbed at the peeling leather of his chair nervously. Normally he was cool and collected at times like this, but this guy turned him off. Knowing that he had to tell the guy he wanted to drop him as a doctor, was not his idea of a good time.

"You sure this is a good idea Dean? I mean the guy killed that poor girl, and he just might do the same to us, or worse."

Sam leaned against the wall beside him staring at the nursing station. One young woman was on the phone with another patient. She tapped her brightly painted red nails in boredom. Sam shivered as they reminded him of fresh blood.

"Yeah. This has to work. How else are we going to be able to watch the guy's every move outside the office? He might actually make a mistake cause of us; slip up somewhere so we can catch him."

"Well I hope so, or else we are asking for a shit load of trouble."

The door to Dr. Steele's office opened and the nail tapping nurse beckoned them back into one of the exam rooms. Sam made a face and Dean elbowed him.

"Dr. Steele will be right with you, he's running a bit late. Emergency calls can be a bitch you know."

Dean nodded as she left the room. They sat there a while, when Dean got an idea.

"Hey, you wait here. I'm gonna check out the eye exam room. See what else I can't dig up."

Sam grabbed for Dean as he headed for the door. Dean turned back, a stunned look on his face.

"Let me…Sam, what's wrong with you?"

Sam dropped his grip on Dean's arm.

"You do realize you can hardly see more than six inches in front of your face. How do you think you're going to be able to find anything by yourself?"

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Watch me kid. I got mad skills."

With that, Dean walked out, leaving Sam standing there, his mouth hanging open.

XXXX

Fifteen minutes later Dr. Steele finally arrived. Dean heard him speaking to the nurse who had escorted them back. They were laughing about something. Shutting the drawer he was looking in, he managed to slip out of the room and into the bathroom. As Dr. Steele made his way to exam room 2, Dean stepped out of the restroom.

"Ah, Dr. Steele, I was just using the little boy's room. Shall we?"

Dean motioned to the room. Dr. Steele nodded and walked ahead of him. Dean breathed deeply that he had made it out in time.

"So Dean, what was the reason behind your call? Has your vision changed any since I last saw you?"

Dean shook his head.

"Not all that much really. Actually I wanted to ask you something, and I hope I don't offend you."

Part of Dean was hoping the guy was offended, and another part of him, the biggest part, was scared shitless if he was.

"That's okay. I don't offend easy. What do you need to ask me?"

Sam looked at his brother then at Doctor Steele. _This plan had better be worth it Dean_.

"Well, I was sort of wondering if I could see a different doctor. Not that you're not a great guy and all, but it's just that…"

Dr. Steele's eyes did not show what he was thinking but his jaw was tight. He took a deep breath and cut Dean off.

"I get it. You heard the stories about me right, local kids telling you things? That's fine, I've gotten used to them by now. People used to say: "Old Steele Trap, nothing gets by him." Now they say I got a screw loose."

He sucked in air between his teeth and then let it out slowly.

"I can recommend someone, he's not as good as I am, but he's a little saner I guess."

Dr. Steele yanked his notepad out of his breast pocket and scribbled a name and phone number down. He ripped of the top sheet with so much force it almost tore in half. He flung it at Dean.

"I'm sorry my services weren't up to par Mr. Richards. Maybe next time you'll learn to appreciate them."

He stormed out of the room muttering to himself.

Sam looked at the empty entryway, not sure what in the hell had just transpired there. He stared at his brother who was just as mystified as he was.

"Are you sure this is still a good idea?"

Dean chuckled slightly.

"You did see what I did right? I mean seriously, that man is definitely going to make a mistake, and we're going to be there when he does."

Sam shook his head. Just the sound of that made him uneasy.

"Yeah well, when we are, I hope it's not on the receiving end."

XXXX

"So we're waiting for what exactly?"

Sam and Dean were parked outside of Dr. Steele's apartment building. Dean had found his address while searching through his things. It was nearly ten, and the doctor was still out on call. Sort of odd for an ophthalmologist.

It looked to them that Steele lived alone since all the lights in his place were out and had been for the last hour. If he had a wife or live in girlfriend, she would have had at least one lamp burning.

From everything Dean could find, his name was David Andrew Steele, aged 45. He had been an ophthalmologist for 15 years. According to his date book, which Dean had the luck to swipe; the man was booked all the way 'til Christmas. He wouldn't have time for a social life anyway.

As Dean scanned through the book, flipping past eye appointment after eye appointment, he stopped on something that was really out of place.

"Sam, look at this."

Sam adjusted in his seat so he could see better. He eyed the book a moment and then looked at Dean.

"What the hell does an ophthalmologist need with medical supplies like a retractor and surgical drills? I mean there's no need for that unless…Oh shit!"

Sam hit the steering wheel hard. He had been wrong, so wrong. Dean was the one who couldn't see more than six inches in front of his face and he saw it. It turned out Sam was the one who was blind.

"Dean, you were right. I just didn't want to see it. Christ, I'm sorry man."

Dean smiled broadly.

"Took you long enough to finally admit it.

Sam made a face. Dean ignored it and shut the book.

"Now Don Quixote, what do we do next?"

Sam sighed. Who knows? An eye doctor who had surgical supplies on hand? How do you even approach that? Was he like Doc Benton, or was he worse? Could they even compare the two? While Sam was thinking all this over, a car pulled in front of Steele's apartment. The boy's ducked down and watched the car come to a stop. Steele exited the vehicle slamming the door behind him. He trudged into his apartment, looking rather miffed. A light went on somewhere in the front section of his place.

Five minutes later, David rushed back out looking angrier than when he went in. He dashed to his car, starting it. He threw it into reverse and hauled ass down the street.

"I guess we follow him."

Dean nodded. Sam started the car and sped off after Steele, trying to keep in pace, but still staying far enough behind without being spotted.

XXXX

If the Green Bay packers hadn't replaced Brett Favre, Steele certainly could have made the pick. His flashlight sailed a good thirty feet and crashed into a cement wall, crashing audibly, the light dying on impact. Steele's breathing was deep and fast. He was sure he was going to hyperventilate at this rate.

From their hiding spot Sam watched the flashlight sail over their heads. It smashed cleanly into the wall. Dean jumped as it hit. He couldn't wait to be able to see clearly again. If he couldn't even see that flashlight as it came at them, what good was he if Steele attacked them? He'd be no use to Sam in that position, let alone himself.

They could just barely hear Steele ranting about Dean and how he had betrayed his trust. A slew of curse words slipped past his lips as his mood darkened. He rambled for a while when Sam watched him pick up a scalpel. Sam gasped.

"Dean, I don't know what you can and can't see, but he just picked up a scalpel."

Dean peaked over the box he was hiding behind. All he saw was a blur, nothing more. Yet he could hear a terrified moan coming from where Steele was standing. It wasn't the Doctor that was for sure. Dean elbowed Sam.

"I think he's about ready to do some slice and dice work. We gotta to stop him."

They edged closer as Steele turned to a fidgety young girl who had been tied down to a filthy hospital gurney. What he said next sent shivers down both their spines.

"Angela, you never should have told, never should have let slip anything about me. Vikki learned her lesson, and now so will you."

Before they could even move Steele dug the scalpel into her eye. Her scream was cut off as Dr. Steele placed a free hand over her mouth. The shock was too much for her young heart to take. She slipped away within seconds.

Sam felt sick to his stomach. Someone had died on his watch, and there was nothing he could do to stop it, nothing except kill the bastard who had done it. Leaping out from behind his hiding place, he lunged at Steele, knocking him to the ground, scattering surgical tools everywhere.

"You bastard!"

Sam hit him in the face once before he was knocked on his back. Dean tried to focus on what was going on, but all he could see were blobs. He couldn't even tell which one was Sam. It was going to be nearly impossible to help his brother.

They continued to fight when Dean heard a loud crack. His heart stopped. He prayed to God that Sam was okay, that the sound he heard had come from Steele, but when he heard the doctor laugh, Dean's stomach lurched.

"Come out, come out wherever you are. You really shouldn't play in here, too many sharp objects."

Steele swiped behind a box with a scalpel, catching only air. He grunted in frustration. His anger level was beginning to boil over.

"Dean, I don't think you realize who you're messing with. I have a degree; I can do things to you that defy logic."

He heard a sly chuckle somewhere in the building.

"Does that explain what you did to Vikki and Angela, your God complex?"

Steele spun around.

"Where are you you little shit? I don't have time for your games."

Before Steele could even blink, Dean was on him. The scalpel slipped from his hands and slid across the floor. They crashed to the floor, Steele's head smacking the cement. He groaned, but recovered. He tossed Dean aside, kicking him in the side, once, twice.

"You never should have come into my office kid. That was your gravest mistake. Oh well, in the end it won't matter, since you won't be alive to grieve about it."

Steele leaned over and stuck a needle into Dean's neck. He gasped as pain shot through his entire body followed by an intense heat. He started to convulse, his eyes rolling in the back of his head, and then he was calm.

Dr. Steele inhaled deeply. He smiled wide as he thought of Dean lying on that table. It would be the most satisfying moment of his 15 year career.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Okay, I thought that this would be the last chapter, but after a much needed talk with my good friend Kathy (historylover) I found out I was going too fast, and needed to slow things down. There was no way I could shore things up in only five chapters, and I agreed. So I will probably have a few more chapters to do just that. I hope I slowed things down a bit...did I Kat, huh? :)

I am enjoying the many reviews this story is getting by the way. It makes me happy to know you like it so much. So, keep coming back for more.

* * *

"Get her out of here."

"Why do I always have to clean up after your dirty work? Why can't you deal with your own shit for once?"

Two voices broke through the fog that swam in his head. Shaking it, he grunted audibly. The voices ceased their incessant ramblings and stared over at him. The second voice spoke softly.

"So, I'm guessing you want me to deal with that one as well?"

He stared up at the voice, his vision blurred to the point of only being able to see shapes. Now he knew how Dean felt. Whoever it was leaned in close and he got a whiff of perfume. It was familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.

"Okay Sammy, looks like your time with us has been fun, but it seems that David here only has room for one patient in his tight schedule. You'll just have to go."

She picked him up, and when he tried to fight her, he found that his hands had been bound behind him. Even if they weren't, he was too dizzy to attempt a full on assault on anyone at present. Instead he let her drag him, his head pounding, across the room to a set of doors. She was ready to shove Sam into the night air, when Steele called her name.

"Oh Maddy, don't forget…"

Maddy looked back, tapping her nails on the door. Sam glanced at them, and even though it hurt to do so, he focused on them as best he could. He gasped when he saw that her nails were painted bright red. She was the nurse from Steele's office.

"Yes dear, what now?"

Steele slipped rubber gloves on his hands, snapping them against his skin.

"If he tries to get away, do like I taught you."

Maddy nodded. She pointed to the back of Sam's skull, her hand in the shape of a gun. Steele smiled as they exited the building

He turned back to Dean who was still unconscious on the exam table. He leaned forward to whisper into Dean's ear.

"Oh Dean, can you hear me? Time to wake up young man."

Dean slowly stirred, and then shot awake. He tried to leap at Steele, but his hands, feet, and chest were strapped to the table.

"What'd you do to my brother you son of a bitch?"

Steele pulled back, a smile on his face.

"Don't worry about him. He's in good hands."

Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, so that makes you All State all of a sudden?"

Steele smiled.

"Well, seems that you still have a sense of humor amidst all of this. Now I need you to stay perfectly still while I do this, or else I might destroy my chances at getting my corneas from you."

He turned his back to Dean, and picked up an eyelid holder.

"What in the hell do you mean by _your_ corneas? What are you doing to me?"

Steele did not turn back around as he spoke.

"Dean, you just don't realize how long I have struggled in my profession, struggled to find just the right donor. I saved so many people's eyes and in the end it turned out I couldn't save my own. That is until I met you. For some unknown reason your eyes are healing at an unbelievable rate, something I have never seen before. I couldn't pass that up."

He picked up a suction ring and set it beside the holder. He then reached for a small bottle of liquid.

"Now Dean, this is an anesthetic. It's going to numb your eye. Don't move or the rest of your face will be numb as well. Just try and cooperate here will you?"

Just as Steele was about to put a few drops of the anesthetic in Dean's eye, there was a loud bang from outside. Dean tried to move his head to look, but it was nearly impossible.

"What was that? What's going on out there?"

An evil smile developed on David's cruel face. He leaned in so Dean could fully see him. Dean wanted to sock him.

"Apparently your brother must have moved."

It took Dean a second to figure out what he meant by that, when his breath hitched in his throat.

"Sam…Sammy!"

Dean yelled at the top of his lungs causing Steele to laugh like a manic. He held Dean down and dropped the anesthetic in his right eye. It stung like a son of bitch, making him bite his top lip hard.

"You think that's painful? Just wait until I have to cut it out."

Dean cursed under his breath. He had prayed before that Sam was okay, and it hadn't worked, but this time he couldn't help himself. There was no way in hell he was about to lose his baby brother, not again. Until he had the proof, he was not about to lose hope.

"Turn your head this way…Stop fidgeting damn it. Open your eyes."

Steele was getting more and more agitated at Dean's defiance. It was annoying. Finally he had enough. He hauled off and socked Dean in the jaw. Dean opened his eye just long enough for Steele to insert the holder.

"Now see, was that so hard? Do you have to be a five year old about everything?"

Dean merely spit blood in Steele's face.

"I take that as a yes. Ok then, have it your way."

Steele picked up the suction ring and placed in on Dean's eye. He felt a slight pressure as if someone were pressing down on his eyelids. Steele placed a patch over Dean's other eye. Everything blurred, and then went black.

XXXX

"Listen, we can't keep doing this, we're going to get caught."

Maddy stood in David's office, tapping her nails on his desk. She was extremely nervous. Staring out his window, she sighed heavily.

"Maddy, look, there is no way we can get caught. You and I have been very careful. We always clean up after ourselves, and we never kill more than we should. Besides, the homeless don't need their eyes anymore. Once they hit the streets what do they need to see: garbage cans and back alleys filled with rancid piss? We're doing them a favor."

Outside the door, Victoria Logan stood, listening to every word. She breathed heavily as she found out that the man she had entrusted with her very own eyesight was a murderous bastard. She could hear them moving toward the door, so she headed for the outer office and sat down.

"See you tomorrow Dr. Steele. You have a good night."

Steele nodded and spotted Vikki sitting all alone in the reception area.

"Vikki, what are you still doing here? Isn't your mom coming to pick you up?"

She shook her head.

"No, she got caught up at work, so she asked if you wouldn't mind bringing me home, since I was your last patient again this week."

Steele agreed and grabbed his coat, handing Vikki hers. Holding open the door for her, he led her down to his car. This was nothing new for him. After being her doctor since she was a child, he had been used to taking her home on occasion.

The trip home was quiet until they crossed the bridge to Atwater, Lake. Vikki knew it well since it was a singing bridge. When David commented on why she wasn't humming along to the steel supports, she told him it was because she knew what he did.

"What do you mean?"

Vikki held back her tears.

"I heard you and Nurse Liddell talking, and I don't think I can keep it to myself."

Tears turned to anger as she turned toward David. He was in shock. _She couldn't know, could she_? _Not some poor little blind girl_.

"Seriously Vikki, I don't know what you mean."

Vikki scoffed. She could hear the nervousness in his voice. She may have been blind, but she certainly wasn't deaf.

"You're lying. Tell me the truth. I know that you've been killing innocent people for their eyes. Why? What do you need them for when you can get healthy donors from the hospital? Why ruin everything this way?"

Steele stopped the car.

"Vikki I just...You know what, why the hell should I explain myself to you? You're just a child, you couldn't possibly understand."

Vikki shook her head.

"I understand that you're killing men and women that never did anything just so you can make a quick buck. What kind of person does that make you?"

Steele smiled broadly.

"That makes me a very goddamned rich one."

Vikki took a deep breath and before she realized what she had done, slapped Steele in the face. Steele reeled back, his anger getting the better of him and he socked her in the mouth. Vikki touched her lip feeling blood. She could feel the tears falling as she rushed out of the vehicle.

"Vikki, get your ass back here right now damn it. I'm not done talking to you."

She stumbled across the bridge, when David found her and drug her down the stairs that led to the beach. She fought him the whole way, kicking and screaming. As they reached the beach, she bit his hand, making him let go. She landed on the sand, sputtering as the gritty substance went up her nose. David grabbed for her again, determined to not let her get away. She struggled against his grasps until he had her within inches of the water. He held her throat so tight her skin began to turn a waxy color. She fought to breath.

"You know what I do to snitches, huh, do you?"

He shook her so hard her head flopped against a large rock. Blood dripped into the water from a fresh head wound.

"I make them disappear."

He held her under water with one hand on her throat and the other on her face. Her feet kicked at the sand only a short time. Once she stopped, he shoved her body into the lake and watched it slowly sink to the bottom.

XXXX

The vision was more real than any of the others. He could actually taste blood and lake water in his mouth. His nose even felt as if it were filled with sand. Light suddenly emerged in Dean's eyes, so bright he thought he was going to be permanently blind. He couldn't squint no matter how hard he tried. He couldn't turn his head to determine where the light source was coming from either. All he could do was wait until it died down.

Within a matter of seconds he heard a voice, one that was all too familiar shouting obscenities at someone. Then he heard a female voice say something indiscernible which caused the light to immediately dim. Dean was finally able to blink.

"Dean, are you okay?"

Dean's heart almost stopped.

"Sammy, is that you?"

He felt a hand on his arm and almost jumped out of his skin.

"Get away from him you son of a bitch before I turn you into a colander."

Sam was with Dean, but whoever had touched him wasn't his brother. The grip on his arm tightened. Dean grit his teeth.

"I can kill your brother with only this, so I'd put that gun down if I were you."

Dean was pissed. He was being held hostage and had no clue what he was being threatened with. His baby brother had a gun, but obviously Edward Hyde's weapon trumped that.

"Not until you tell me why you're doing this."

Dean felt something sharp dig into his flesh.

"You must really not like your brother all that much if you want me to fill his bloodstream with enough Morphine to kill a Rhino. So again, I suggest you put down the gun, and walk away while you still have a brother."

Dean sucked air between his teeth. _Okay, now I know. Thanks for the show and tell_.

Sam set the gun down. David began to wave him away, when the female voice returned.

"Make him pay…"

David heard a slight giggle. The straps that held Dean down let go, falling at his sides. Dean looked around, surprised at the fact that he was even able to see. He yanked the needle from his arm throwing it to the floor.

"How did you..."

The voice whispered in Dean's head again. Dean grabbed at his head as his face changed. It took on an eeriness that was otherworldly. His hand reached out and grabbed David by the throat, gripping it tight.

"At it again I see huh?"

David's skin went pale.

"V…Vikki?"

Dean cocked his head to one side. Sam's eyes went wide as his brother slipped off the gurney, his hand still on Steele's neck.

"They were all meat to you weren't they? Nothing but things you could operate on and then dispose of when you were done."

Dean shoved Steele against a wall. Steele's breathing was erratic.

"Dean!"

Dean turned to Sam, his face contorted, a wicked smile on his lips.

"Sorry Sammy, but Dean's busy at the moment. Leave a message, and I'm sure he'll get back to you."

Dean returned his attention back to David, who was struggling against the hold on his neck.

"You're dead, you can't be here."

David kicked at Dean, almost knocking over the metal tray behind him. Dean smiled.

"Yes, I am. Thanks to you my body had to lie and rot in a cold and watery grave for almost two years. You didn't even give a shit. Not as a doctor and certainly not as a father!"

Sam's heart nearly exploded. _Jesus Christ. Steele killed his own daughter_!


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I am hesitant about posting the ending of this chapter, since it can go one of two ways if I do. If I post the very last paragraph to it, it leads to another chapter, which I am not sure I wanna do. Though if I don't, I might leave too much unexplained. I have a conundrum here. What I will do it put a line and a warning before the paragraph...I will leave it up you, the reader to decide what you want.

Tell me in reviews if you think I should leave it the way it is, or continue on. If you think I have tied up everything nicely and do not need to go any further, let me know that as well...

Again, I greatly appreciate every review I have received. You have no idea!

* * *

Sam stood frozen to the spot, not sure what he was going to do. Even if a dead girl _was_ inhabiting Dean's body, this was still his brother. He couldn't shoot Vikki without harming Dean. They had too many bad outcomes that way. Also she wasn't a demon, so his powers were moot. She was simply a pissed off ghost who wanted revenge.

"But I'm just your step-father Vik…"

Dean's grip on Steele's throat tightened.

"Oh,"

Dean chuckled.

"And that makes everything hunky dory? That makes what you did to me go away; it just wipes the slate clean of all your wrong doing? Somehow I don't think it works that way."

Dean pulled David back and slammed him against the wall. His eyes rolled back as he slid down to the floor. Dean knelt down in front of him and whispered in his ear.

"Now you'll feel the pain that I felt."

Dean turned and picked up the needle that he had thrown and eyed its contents. Sam watched as Dean slid to David's neck and stuck the needle in.

"Dean, don't…"

Dean glanced at Sam, his finger playing with the plunger of the needle.

"Poor Sammy, you're such a worrier. You see, I have to, or else David is going to continue killing for sport. He almost took out your brother; do you really want him to do that to others? Do you really have it in you to let a monster like him live? I doubt it."

Sam knew the words weren't Dean's, but the voice was his brother's. He just couldn't get that fact out his head. The whole outer package was his brother; it looked like Dean, sounded like Dean, was dressed like Dean, but the driver was something else entirely.

He blinked only once before he dove for his gun and trained it on Dean. The man in front of him smiled widely.

"So, you want your brother to die? David was right; you really must not like him all that much, do you? I have nothing against Dean; I just need him to get the job done, which is why I recommend that you put the gun down before you perforate such a perfect body. I'm not sure your brother would particularly agree with that, do you?"

Sam barely moved the gun. In a way the ghost was right, but he couldn't take the chance that she would use his brother in her little scheme. He stepped closer, the gun back to its former position.

"Listen Vikki, I don't give a shit if your father deserves every bit of what you plan on giving him, but that's my brother you're riding, and I would appreciate it if you'd…"

Dean's face became even more evil. He yanked the needle from David's neck. David stirred slightly.

"Sammy, you really are a pain in the ass aren't you? One little job, one little act of revenge and you just can't let it happen. I guess I should deal with you first."

Dean lunged at Sam, knowing full well that he wouldn't shoot him, that his brother meant more to him than that. Sam was slammed against the floor, the gun skirting along the concrete. Dean smiled.

"I was going to use this on David over there, but I guess I have to use it on you since you are being so uncooperative and all."

Dean held Sam down. Sam struggled against his brother's grasp, but the spirit inside was much stronger than he realized. Sam swung wildly, trying to knock him off, but only succeeding in pissing him off.

"Sorry Sammy. This is going to hurt, if only for a little while."

Dean jabbed the needle into Sam's arm and administered just enough of the Morphine to knock Sam out.

Sam's vision swam as he watched Dean saunter over to David. He leaned down in front of him, stuck the needle into his chest and gave him the rest of the Morphine. Sam's head hit the floor before he saw the outcome, but he knew it couldn't have been a good one.

XXXX

His head hurt and his heart was pounding. He sprung awake, looking around, and unaware of where he was. This had been happening to him a lot lately. He rubbed at the back his head and felt a nice lump forming. That was going to be nothing next to what Dean was going through.

Sam scanned his surroundings and spotted Dean lying on the floor splayed out on his stomach. His right arm was lying across David's legs; his left was under his face which was back to normal. Sam got in closer and noticed that his nose was bleeding.

He shook his brother who at first did not respond and then after further jerks, his eyes finally began to open. He pulled back, not sure if Dean was running the show or Vikki.

"Sa…Sammy. What hap…?"

Sam was still not sure, but he helped him up just the same. Helping him into a sitting position, he noticed that David was still sitting behind them. The needle was dangling from his chest. His eyes were cloudy, blood and foam trickled from his mouth. Sam swallowed hard and looked away. Dean caught his expression and turned around. He gasped and almost fell backwards.

"Did…did I do that?"

He couldn't take his eyes off the body in front of him. It was a hell of time for his vision to come back to him. Of all the first things to see, it had to be that.

Sam gripped Dean's shoulder hard.

"Dean, you didn't do anything. Vikki did. You were under her influence. I could have shot you, but that would have meant killing you, and you know damn well I wasn't about to use my powers. You forbid me from doing that. Besides, she was a ghost, a lot of good it would have done anyway."

Dean took it all in, and then for no reason socked Sam in the face. Sam grabbed his jaw, tasting blood.

"What the hell was that for?"

Dean stood, gripping the gurney hard.

"Next time a ghost tries to inhabit my body, you shoot me. You do not hesitate for any reason. I don't give a shit if I tell you not to beforehand or even during, you shoot me. Got that?"

Sam struggled with what Dean had just told him. He would never have said that under any circumstances. Yes Dean was the 'shoot first, ask questions later' type, but not when it came to his own skin. So why was he saying that now?

"Dean, are you okay? I mean, you never talk like this."

Dean shrugged.

"I'm fine, just a bit sick to my stomach. Can we get out of here while the getting's good? We don't want anyone calling the cops on us or anything."

Sam nodded, but was still leery about his brother. He knew he shouldn't be, but there was something a bit off. He wondered if there was still a bit of residual effect left over from Vikki. Dean moved ahead of him and walked out the door.

The Impala was parked caddywumpsus in front of the building. Apparently Sam had been in a hurry to get there and did not care in the slightest as to how he parked her.

"So, I leave you alone with her for like an hour and you treat her like that? Never again are you driving my baby."

He pulled Sam close and started rifling through his jacket pockets.

"Dude, what are you doing?"

Dean made a face, but continued his digging as if he was looking for the prize at the bottom of a Cracker Jack box. Finally getting what he was looking for, he shoved Sam away and walked toward the car.

Sam's eyebrows furrowed. Dean was acting odd to say the least. As Dean got into the driver side, Sam stood there staring off. He just couldn't process it all; it was all too weird to him.

"Hey Sleepy Jean, get your ass in the car before I leave it behind."

Sam mumbled something Dean couldn't hear and slipped into the car. This was not going well at all.

XXXX

Back at the motel, Dean escaped into the bathroom. Sam sat down on his bed and merely waited. He didn't know what else to do _but_ wait. Dean was acting strange, and Sam was on the outside looking in, unable to rationalize any of it.

"It looks like everything is in its place. I guess old Frankenweenie didn't get what he was looking for. Nice to be able to see again I'll tell you that. Things were so freaky for the longest time."

He stepped out of the bathroom and leaned against the doorjamb, a small smile on his face.

"Yeah, it's nice to see you as well Dean. At least you can drive and not be all bitchy about what music I listen to anymore."

Dean chuckled.

"Next time don't touch my tunes. Blind guys don't appreciate their radios fiddled with. It's rude."

Dean worked his way to the armoire that held their clothes and began to sort through them. He handed Sam some of his and then returned to his own. Sam stuffed his shirts into his bag, and then slowly turned back to Dean.

"Hey, by the way, I took care of that nurse."

Dean nodded.

"Oh really, that's good. Maddy was a problem that needed solving. At least David and she are taken care of now. Saved the local authorities the hassle."

Sam stepped back, eyeing his brother.

"How did you know who Maddy was Dean? Plus, why didn't you ask how I took care of her? You would be pissed at the fact that I took down a human."

Sam grabbed for a shotgun that was lying beside the bed.

"You're not Dean."

Dean turned and grinned.

"I have to thank you Sammy. I couldn't have taken that bitch down without you. She had slept with my father, ruined my family, so she just had to die. Also she helped take in 'strays' as she called them. Tied them down for that bastard while he dissected them like they were a science experiment. I merely did what was necessary to save others, including your brother."

Dean stepped within only an inch of the gun barrel.

"I suggest you shoot me. That's the only way to end this. Though, as I said before, you'd be killing your brother. If that's what you want to do to stop me, go right ahead."

Sam cocked the gun.

"God forgive me Dean."

The shot exploded throughout the motel room. Dean's body flung backwards, slamming into the armoire, cracking the door.

XXXX

Sam dropped the gun on the floor and rushed to his brother's side. Dean's shirt was ripped to shreds, and blood was seeping from the wound. Sam began to breathe hard that his plan had backfired.

"Dean, Dean, can you hear me?"

He shook his brother hard. Dean did not respond. Sam felt for a pulse. It was faint. _Damn it Sam, what have you done?_

Sam tried lifting his brother off the floor, but in this condition it was damned near impossible. Instead he tried to drag him out into the car. Kicking the door open, he half lifted, half drug Dean out into the backseat of the Impala, checking his pulse the entire time. It was steady, but still very faint.

"Damn it…"

Sam cursed out loud, wishing he hadn't done what he had. It was stupid and reckless. Now here Dean was bleeding from a gunshot wound, something that seemed like a good idea at the time. If Sam didn't get Dean to the hospital quick, he would bleed to death.

Sam finally got Dean into the back of the car and then leapt into the front seat. He tore out of the parking lot a little too fast. He could see Dean slam into the back of the car. Sam slammed a fist into the steering wheel. Yet there was no time to slow down. This was life or death.

At the hospital he unloaded his brother, catching the attention of an EMT. She rushed over grabbing Dean's legs. They carried him in together. A nurse rushed up to them followed by at least two doctors.

"What happened here?"

One of the doctors questioned Sam, but he was too busy worrying about his brother to even notice the guy. At this point he didn't trust them too much anyway.

"Sir, what happened to him?"

He yanked at Sam's shirt while the others took Dean and placed him on a gurney. Sam snapped back to reality.

"Just save my brother, okay?"

The doctor nodded once and headed off after the rest of the medical team.

Half an hour later that same doctor returned with a confused look on his face. He tapped Sam on the arm, making him jump.

"Is my brother okay?"

The doctor crossed his arms in front of him. He looked upset.

"Sir, I am not sure what kind of scam you're running here, but your brother is perfectly fine. Save for a large powder burn on his chest, there is nothing wrong with him. If this is to try and bilk the government out of funds, then I suggest you go somewhere else for that. This is a hospital for people with real needs, not imaginary ones."

Sam stood, looking just as confused as the doctor had.

"I am sorry but I have no clue what you mean. My brother was bleeding profusely when I brought him in here. His pulse was weak, and he wasn't breathing. How do you explain that?"

The doctor shrugged.

"I don't know. Have you taken any hallucinogens this evening that might explain what you saw?"

Sam groaned.

"Listen damn it…I know what the hell I saw. My brother was almost dead. Apparently you need your eyes checked. Where is he?"

The doctor pointed to an exam room down the hall.

"When you are done, get out. I don't have time for games tonight."

Sam glared at him, but complied. He stepped into Dean's room to see him sitting up on the bed, his feet dangling over the bed. He was rubbing his chest.

"Dean what are you…?"

Dean looked up at Sam.

"What in God's name happened to me? I feel like I was hit by a freaking Mack truck. Christ Sam."

Sam cringed.

"That was the only thing I could do to save you. Vikki wouldn't let you go. So I figured rock salt would do the trick."

Dean stopped rubbing his chest. His eyes went wide.

"You what? I'm being used by the Corpse Bride, and you decide to pump me full of rock salt? That's your plan? I oughta belt you right here, I mean it is the perfect place in case your ass hits the floor."

Sam half smiled.

"Well, you did kind of do that already."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Dude, you are so not going to bring that up again are you. I mean Jesus, lay off it already. Besides, you had it coming."

Sam shook his head.

"No, not when you found out about me. Just about an hour ago. Actually I think it was Vikki that hit me, seeing as that you were still unaware of your actions at that point. Man can that girl pack a mean left hook."

Dean chuckled.

"So you got the beat down by a chick, a dead chick none the less?"

He leapt off the hospital bed. He groaned as his feet hit the floor. Sam moved to him and led him toward the door.

"Yeah, but she was kinda in your body, so that made the fight a bit on the unfair side."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. So, does this mean she's gone and away from my ass, 'cause that is not something I want haunting me, in a manner of speaking."

Sam nodded.

"Yeah, I think she disappeared once I shot your sorry ass full of condiments. By the way, do you remember anything? I mean, when Meg took over I remembered quite a bit."

Dean thought about it for a second then shrugged.

"The last thing I clearly remember was Dr. Fixit trying to steal my eyes. I know you wanted to shoot him, and then I heard Vikki's voice say: 'Make him pay…" After that I was gone. What happened that I need to remember?"

They stopped at the front door of the hospital. Sam struggled to tell Dean that he actually killed someone, even if he had been someone's puppet. It was hard enough knowing _he_ had been, how was Dean going to take it in his condition?

"Um, you sort of killed Dr. Steele. There was that needle full of Morphine that he tried to stick you with. Well you jabbed him with it. It killed him."

Dean's face melted. He backed into the doorframe of the hospital and slid to the ground.

"I killed someone Sammy. I kill…"

Sam leaned in front of him and gripped his arm.

"Dean, you didn't kill anyone. Vikki did. Besides Steele was a deplorable bastard that was killing for the sport of it. He didn't need to live, even if he was human."

Dean looked up at his brother.

"How did you know what he did? I only knew from a vision Vikki showed me. You couldn't possibly know."

Sam sighed.

"That bitch Vikki told me while she…well you know."

Sam let go of Dean's arm and stood.

"Come on. We better get going before that doctor throws us out for loitering. I don't think he liked us very much."

Dean chuckled.

"Does anyone? I think our reputation has been tarnished. I personally think we're awesome."

Sam moved toward the car.

"But unfortunately not everyone shares your opinion."

Dean followed behind him.

"Yeah well, you know what they say about opinions Sammy…"

Sam turned around.

"If you even attempt it, I will smack you."

Out of habit, Dean moved toward the passenger side.

"Hey, after the last few days, I deserve at least one, don't I?"

Sam groaned and tossed him the keys. He caught them perfectly.

"Why are you giving me these?"

Sam pointed to Dean's right hand. He looked at the hand and smiled.

"That's why. You caught them without even looking. You drive."

Dean slipped around the car, elbowing Sam in the stomach. He chuckled softly and got in the car. Dean got in and turned the radio on.

"Okay this time I control the airwaves. I'm thinking Ac/Dc's 'Back in Black'."

Sam smiled.

"Hmm, I was thinking more like Johnny Nash's 'I Can See Clearly Now'."

Dean shoved at Sam who laughed heartily.

"Hey it's apropos, don't you think?"

Dean rolled his eyes. He stuck in a tape and blared it. Sam wiggled a finger in his ear at the sound, but was soon accustomed to it. Dean threw the car into drive, happy to be able to do so and pulled out of the hospital parking lot.

...

**Warning:** Do not read any further unless you want the story to continue! If you think I have tied everything together in the chapter above, disregard the following...

* * *

What they didn't see was Vikki Logan standing on the asphalt behind them, blood trickling from her mouth. She wiped at it and then stared at the fading lights of the Impala. This wasn't over. She had her revenge on David and Madison, but now she had one more on her agenda to handle, and she wasn't letting him go down without a fight.

She let out a scream like a banshee and vanished into the night.


End file.
